


The War is Won (But the Battle is Just Beginning)

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Falling Skies
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On post-war Earth, Cochise keeps a garden.  Hal recommends talking to his plants.   Cochise takes his advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The War is Won (But the Battle is Just Beginning)

            Cochise enjoys growing food for his human family.  He will eat it too, of course, but he can eat any of the organic material around.  It is an important duty, something that they require, and so different from his previous life.  Instead of constant killing and death, he helps create life and helps sustain the life of his human family.

            Sometimes Ben trades for books and sometimes those books are about plants, which Cochise appreciates.  The farmer’s almanacs in particular have come in useful. 

            “You talk to your plants?” Hal asks one night over dinner.

            “I do not.  Should I?” Cochise asks.

            “Some people say it helps plants grow,” Hal says between bites.  “Although, I already know that your veggies are going to be better than all this canned stuff.”

            “Thank you,” Cochise says.   “And thank you for the advice.”

* * *

 

            The next day, Cochise begins talking to his plants as he tends to them. 

            “I am Chichauk Il'sichninch Cha'tichol, but on this planet, I am known as Cochise,” he says.  “I used to be a Volm warrior, but now… I am not certain what I am.  But I am here to take care of you so you may feed my human family.”

            He pauses in order to pull up a few weeds.  He does not want the weeds to get the incorrect idea.

            “I have enjoyed my time on your planet.  It is quite spectacular.  That is due in part to you and your plant brethren,” Cochise says as he waters them.  “They are quite gorgeous, unlike anything I have seen on many other worlds.  Of course, the Catarius flower- a flower from my home world which I have never seen in person- is most special to me.  That does not diminish my appreciation of your beauty, however.”

* * *

 

            “You have made admirable progress since last night,” Cochise says to one tomato plant the next day.  “I am pleased.”

            “Oh!  And you have made even more progress,” Cochise informs another. 

            “Your leaves are quite soft,” Cochise says as his fingers examine a bean plant’s leaves for insect eggs.  “And you are insect free!  Good.”

            He compliments each plant in turn, spending extra time on those which are developing problems.  Hopefully, it will encourage them to grow hardier.

* * *

 

            When he is not complimenting his plants, he tells them stories, primarily of Earth, primarily of his family.

            “There are four humans who live here primarily, whose voices you may hear.  There is Tom Mason, my mate.  He is brave and very smart.  I also admire his passion, particularly for his species’ history, of which I have learned a great deal.  It is because of him that I remain here.  During the recent war on this planet, we fell in love.  It was a startling and disturbing occurrence, but a good one.  I am better at speaking English than I was when I first arrived on this planet, but I still do not have the words to capture the feelings he evokes in me.

            Tom has three offspring.  The eldest offspring’s name is Hal.  His tactical skill is admirable for someone without training.  Despite the fact that he is technically an adult by human standards, he remains at home in order to be with his family, which is what is most important to him- a trait shared by all the Masons. 

            His next eldest son is Ben.  He has a very similar temperament to his father, but he is quieter.  I find his interest and skill in physics stimulating.  In time, he will surpass any human physicist I know of.  Not that I know of many.  I believe that part of his interest comes from his problems coping with his post-war life, particularly since he longer has the spikes which formed much of his identity.

            Tom’s youngest offspring is Matt.  He would, frankly, make an awful Volm, despite his desire to fight.  Matt is wild and uncontrollable.  I find his straightforward kindness enjoyable.  He has very few memories of life without war, something which I understand. 

            I have spent many years with these humans, and yet I am still constantly surprised by them.  I love all four of them in very different ways for all of their human strangeness.”

* * *

 

            Cochise notices great increases in his plants’ well-beings, which is why he tries to keep his talk positive.  Some days, however, it is hard. 

            “I attended a memorial service today for the humans who died during the Espheni invasion.  It was a somber but thought provoking affair.  However…” Cochise takes a moment to compose himself. 

            “I could not help but think about how there is no memorial for my brother.  Volm do not celebrate their dead as humans do.  It is a waste of space on warships.  I cannot help but wish there was a memorial for my brother, somewhere.  Something of him that will last after I am dead.  The humans built many memorials on their planet for their dead- there are even memorials for the friends and family the Masons have lost on this property and they spend much time sitting near Rebecca’s grave. 

            Even after the Volm have our homeworld, we will not built memorials.  It would take up too much precious time- we have lost hundreds of years of progress.  I am not enough to remember my brother.  It has not bothered me before now because I had been at war and I had much else to occupy my time with.  Now, I have much time, and I contemplate my greatest loss more and more.

            I miss him, which is a foolish emotion because I would no longer be in contact with him even if he was alive.  My self-imposed exile would assure this.  I am also saddened by the fact that he did not die on a planet as lovely as Earth.  It was unpleasantly hot and we shortly lost that world to the Espheni.  There was no point.  Just death.”

            Cochise has been kneeling to tend to his plants, and he bows his head to compose himself, pressing his hands into the warm Earth.  He wonders if Earth feels at all like what his home would feel like, if he had ever felt it. 

            “I do not wish to denigrate the humans for their mourning, but I wish I had a similar outlet,” he eventually says softly.  Cochise composes himself, finished gardening for the day.  He feels badly about how he has treated his plants.  “I am sorry for burdening you with my problems.  Thank you for listening, plants, and you have made wonderful progress.”

* * *

 

            Cochise continues his pattern of telling his plants about the positive parts of his day.  He does not want to cause them stress, which may cause their produce to be less nutritious. 

            But then he realizes that he has referred to the Volm as ‘them’ instead of as ‘we.’             

            “Whether I am still Volm or not has weighed heavily on my mind.  After all, a Volm is defined by their fight, and now I do not participate in the war against the Espheni.  I have left my people willingly, and I believe that I may no longer be one of them. 

Yet, I am not human.  Many humans still believe I have some kind of ulterior motive, even though my only desire is to stay with my family.  It is most distressing.

Before, I knew what I was and why I existed, even if it did not always feel right.  Now, while I know that I have a family and somewhere where I will always be welcome no matter what, I still feel a sense of loss.  A sense of purposelessness. 

I love Tom, Hal, Ben, and Matt, and they give me a sense of happiness and completeness that I have never felt.  I do not miss my previous life of violence and killing.  But I do miss the focus.  That I knew my place.

I am not human, but I am uncertain that I am Volm.  I am…  I do not know.”

Cochise smiles as he notices that the leaves on the plants are greener than ever.

“Thank you for listening to me.”

* * *

 

            Unfortunately, the next day Cochise is still feeling sad.  He had attempted a rest cycle, but was unable to complete it, as he had been plagued by unpleasant thoughts. 

            “I am sorry that I am sad again, plants,” Cochise says as he waters them.  “It has become more difficult to forget about the many awful things I have taken part in. 

            I have seen an uncountable number of deaths, some of which have been quite gruesome.  I have participated in an uncountable number of deaths, some of which have been quite gruesome.  Many of these, I do not regret.  They were necessary.  They were the deaths of enemies.

            However, some of them could have been prevented.  _I_ could have prevented some of them.  Some were the deaths of our allies, or of my comrades.  I have massacred innocents in order to kill enemies.  I can do nothing to change those deaths, but I still mourn them.  I still feel guilt for them. 

There are only so many times that I can reassure myself that I had no other choice, that I had to follow my orders, before that excuse falls flat.  It is no excuse, and by being here, on Earth, I have proven to myself that I do not have to follow orders.  That I can make my own decisions, and so those deaths weigh more heavily on my conscience than ever.”

Cochise presses his lips together and weeds carefully as he thinks. 

“Sometimes I worry what I have done makes me unworthy of what Tom and his offspring have given me.  That this life- a peaceful life full of love that no member of my species has experienced in hundreds of years- has been wasted on someone who has done so many terrible things and nothing great.”

He gets to his feet, brushing the dirt from his knees before walking inside to wash his hands clean.  Cochise also changes into fresh clothes because he does not wish to spread dirt to the interior of their house.  Humans are much cleaner when not at war.

When Cochise comes back downstairs, he sees Tom waiting at the bottom of their staircase.  He looks sad and worried.

“Cochise, can you come into the living room, please?” Tom asks.

“Of course,” Cochise says.  “Is there a problem?”

“No, we’re just worried about you,” Tom says.  He wraps an arm around Cochise once Cochise reaches the bottom of their staircase.  “We want to talk to you.”

Cochise is confused until he turns the corner to see Tom’s offspring piled onto the couch.  Tom leads him to the other couch (one termed a loveseat, according to Hal) and sits down with him.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, promise,” Matt starts, “but I was playing and I heard you talking to your plants.  I was, y’know, curious.  But then I heard you talking about your brother and being sad and I felt bad.”

“It’s really easy for us to forget that you’re probably having problems too,” Ben says.  “You’re so strong and stoic that we forget to check in on you the way you check in on us.”

“We care about you, Cochise,” Hal says.  “All of us do.  We want to make sure you’re happy here, with us.”

Tom rubs his back.  “Matt said that he overheard you wishing that your brother had some kind of memorial.  I didn’t want to do anything without your permission, but there’s plenty of room next to Rebecca’s grave for a memorial for him.  Anything you want.”

Cochise swallows hard, attempting to suppress his impending emotional outburst.  “You are certain?  Rebecca was your broodmate, the mother of your offspring.  I do not wish to intrude.”

“But Brochise was your brother!” Matt says.  “It would be real hard to lose a brother.”

All three of the offspring shift closer together.

“Brochise?” Cochise asks.

“Brother and Cochise,” Hal explain.  “Matt accidentally blurred the two together last night, and it stuck.”

“If you don’t like it, we won’t say it,” Ben quickly adds.

Cochise struggles with his words for a few seconds, while everyone looks at him with increasing worry.  “I am honored that you would allow me to memorialize my brother near someone whom you all loved so much, and I believe he would be honored by the nickname.”  He leans against Tom, feeling unsteady.  “I do not know if I am worthy of such honors, but I know he was.  Thank you.”

“You can tell us all about him, if you want!” Matt says. 

“After I have constructed a memorial, I will tell you more about him,” Cochise says.  “I will require your assistance, for I do not know what is required to build a memorial.  It is not something the Volm do.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Tom says, kissing his cheek.

Matt jumps out off of the couch and rushes across the room to crawl into Cochise’s lap, hugging him tight.  Cochise is briefly startled, but hugs him back.

A brief second later, both Hal and Ben have joined their hug and Cochise does not believe he has ever been happier. 

“I have wondered about my place in this world,” Cochise says quietly.  “Volm are defined by violence, and while I would not hesitate to employ violence to keep this family safe, I have left my previous, violent life behind.  I did not know if I could consider myself a Volm.  But I am not human either.  It is a difficult position to be in, and sometimes I do not know if I belong anywhere.  You have reminded me how much I have to keep me anchored, no matter how confused I may feel.”

“We’re always here for you,” Ben says.  “We really care about you.”

“You’re our Volm Dad!” Matt says.  “You belong here.”

“Dad would be lost without you,” Hal says, “and so would the rest of us.”

“Hal’s right,” Tom murmurs, smiling at him.  “You’re part of this family.  I can’t tell you whether you should feel Volm or not Volm, but I can tell you that no matter what, you’re one of us.  You’re a Mason.”

Even with his arms full, Cochise manages to press his forehead against Tom’s.  “Thank you.”

That evening, Cochise tells Tom about the atrocities he has been a part of, his voice stumbling.  Tom sits on the bed in front of him, holding his hands and looking into his eyes.

“…I did not wish to tell you about this earlier because I do not want your offspring to know about the things I had done.  I do not want them to look at me with fear or disgust.  But I believed that you should know, and I needed to inform someone,” Cochise says.  “It feels good to inform someone who will judge me.”

There is a long, painful silence and Cochise wonders if Tom is going to ask him to leave.  He looks horrified, tears streaming down his face.  His fingers flex against Cochise’s hands.

“I can’t forgive you for wrongs you didn’t do to me,” Tom says quietly, “and some of the things you did…” He presses his lips together and shakes his head.  “But I know you, Cochise.  I know you’re a good person.  And I know that war can take even the kindest, gentlest people and turn them vicious.  Growing up in war?  War that’s gone on for generations?  You never had a chance.”

“You do not find me abhorrent now?” Cochise says.  “I live in the same house as your offspring.”

Tom leans forward and presses his lips to Cochise’s forehead.

“It’s horrifying.  It’s terrible,” Tom mumbles before pulling away.  “I know that you feel wrecked over what you’ve done.  That part of your life is over, though.  This is your life.  If I thought that you were a danger to the boys, I wouldn’t hesitate to make you leave.  But I don’t.  I still love you.”

Cochise’s chest heaves and he lets out a mournful keening noise.

Tom jumps back a little.  “Are you okay?”

Cochise continues to make the keening noise, but he nods a little to indicate to Tom that he is okay. 

Tom scoots around and holds him close, rocking him back and forth. 

There’s a pounding on the door.  “You okay?” Hal’s voice yells.

“We’re okay,” Tom calls back. 

“You call if you need anything,” Hal yells.  “We have ice cream downstairs.”

“Thanks,” Tom yells.

Tom rocks him until he stops keening.

“Are you okay, Cochise?”

“That is a Volm expression of grief and overwhelming emotions,” Cochise says.  “I could not contain it.”

Tom strokes his cheek.  “Why didn’t you come talk to me before now?”

“You have given me so much, and I know that you needed to focus on yourself and your offspring,” Cochise says.  “And, truly, I did not realize how distressed I was until I began talking to the plants.”

“I love you,” Tom exhales on a strained laugh.  “And of course, the boys will always come first, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t help you, too.  We all have to look out for each other, still.”

“I love you as well,” Cochise says.

“Do you want to go downstairs?” Tom asks.

“Perhaps a little later,” Cochise says.  “Right now, I want you to hold me, please.”

Tom blinks in surprise.  Normally, Cochise holds Tom while they rest.  “Yes, of course.  Anything.”

Cochise stretches out on the bed, closing his eyes as Tom wraps his arms around him.  His body is somehow both frail and strong at the same time.  The now familiar feeling of hair brushes comfortingly against Cochise’s ridges, and Tom’s warm breath heats him inside as well. 

As Tom said, this is life now.  Cochise is not yet fully adjusted to it, and perhaps the adjustment will never be complete, but he will be okay.  Thanks to Tom and his offspring.

* * *

 

“I have an excellent family,” Cochise tells his plants the next day.  “They are observant and kind.  I am lucky to be with them, and while that does not dismiss the other concerns I have shared with you all, it does make them easier to cope with.”

He notices that one of his strawberry plants has borne fruit.  They are red and succulent looking, as his family have described.

“Tom!  Hal!  Ben!  Matt!”  Cochise yells. 

They come running out of the house, appearing alarmed. 

“Do not worry,” Cochise says when they stop at the edge of his plot.  He steps forward and holds out his hand, offering his family the fruits of his labor.  “I have these for you.”

It’s Tom’s grin that Cochise notices first, but he quickly takes stock of the other three grinning humans. 

Cochise watches as the four of them pop the berries into their mouths.  They all give him pats of approval, and Cochise feels his heart race.

He made something live.  He has tangible proof that he is capable of creating life, not only death.

 


End file.
